


Little Brown Mouse

by pr_squared



Category: stand alone - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-06 04:02:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10325168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pr_squared/pseuds/pr_squared
Summary: A tale of the Gynarchy of Amaranthis, the Undying Flower.The Atreis famiy contested with the Palatinas for leadership of the Council.





	1. Prologue

Appia Palatina Casta greeted her twin brother Major and her best friend, Opita Valeria Messalina as they came in from the garden. Major was twenty-two years old and Messalina twenty-four years. Major and Casta were no longer little children.

A strongly built youth, he frantically picked the leaves and grass from his tangled thick, dark hair and tried to straighten his disheveled tunic without being noticed. He was barefoot. He had forgotten his sandals in the garden. He might also do something about the beads of moisture in his close cropped beard, Casta snickered quietly. She would not deny her older brother or her good friend their happiness.

Messalina, a tall young woman, grinned ear to ear and casually brushed back her long dark hair. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with a gentle glee too great to be concealed. She literally glowed. 

Casta knew full well how they had been engaged. The pair smelled plainly of sex. She was somewhat unclear as to the precise anatomic particulars but found her lurid speculations absolutely delicious. 

That a woman might take her pleasure with an attractive boy was a cause for celebration in the Gynarchy of Amaranthis, and not a cause for concern. Caeca, her older sister, owned Alyx and Timon. Messalina had her golden haired Xanthos. Casta thoroughly enjoyed her two boys, Battus and Iacchus. Both shared her bed in the colder weather. Battus and Iacchus competed eagerly for her favor and spared her any complacency. 

Erce, Casta’s maid servant, was a refugee a land where women lived in abject fear. The easy confidence of the women of the Gynarchy impressed her. “Men are so much larger and stronger than we women. They are so eager for violence.”

Casta listened sympathetically and laughed. No man might raise his hand against a woman in the Gynarchy. Such violence was a crime beyond excuse or pardon. “You have no fear of my Battus and Iacchus.” 

“They are only slaves.”

“You have no fear of my brother, Major, and he is larger and stronger than most.” Casta chuckled at the thought. 

Erce smiled and shook her head hesitantly. “Your brother is sweet.”

Casta looked at the younger woman intently. “Erce, does the largest beast rule the stable?”

Casta, slighter of build than her strongly built brother but sharing his dark looks, was truly and honestly happy for her brother and her friend. Her brother loved Messalina deeply and his honest affection was fully reciprocated. Messalina was her dear friend and Casta was certain that Messalina would do everything in her power to care for her brother and make him happy. She smiled to imagine how he might get along with Messalina’s boy, Xanthos.

However, the Valeria, though reliable allies of the Palatina, were not one of the ten families who served on the Council of Ten and that posed a challenge. Casta doubted that her great aunt Aule Palatina Augusta, the First of the Council, would ever agree to such a disadvantageous match.


	2. Retirement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fausta Atreis Auspica retires as Captain General of the Gynarchy

Fausta Atreis Auspica, Captain General of the Gynarchy of Amarnathis, took a deep breath and paused. All at once, she felt the heavy weight of her long years and difficult labors. Still she held her head high and walked slowly up the aisle toward the dais. She had served the Council long and well. 

Fausta Atreis Catula, the Captain General’s daughter and Maestre of Horse followed her mother proudly. Vividly, she imagined the day when she herself would lead the procession up the aisle and inherit her mother’s lofty position.

Aula Palatina Augusta, First of the Council of Ten, sat in a simple chair and watched her old friend approach. The Gynarchy of Amaranthis tolerated no thrones. To Augusta’s right stood Appia Palatina Potita, Augusta’s niece and Secretary of State and Gnaea Tarpeia Sulla, Maestre of Coin. To her left stood, Vibia Apollonia Ulpis, Chamberlain and Gaia Claudia Marcella, Magistrate of the City of Amaranthis. Appia Palatina Caeca, Augusta’s grandniece and Captain of her Guard, stood tall in her soldier’s kit and surveyed the gathering watchfully. Her younger sister, Appia Palatina Casta stood by her friend Messalina and struggled to hide her boredom.

Lady Auspica smiled ironically. She had served the Council and her nation for many years as Captain General. She had received much honor and many rewards for her labors, but she always felt a touch of envy when she saw the elegantly dressed courtiers on either side of the aisle. Her cuirass and tunic were finely made but she looked forward to trading her own well-worn soldier’s garb for more stylish and comfortable garments. The time for retirement had finally arrived. The day was perfect except for too many Palatinas. Some joked that the exalted family shared an unpleasant odor, but only in private when no Palatinas were about.

The Lady Augusta smiled to see her old friend and marveled at what age had done to the two of them. She motioned for Lady Auspica to sit. Auspica held a seat on the Council of Ten and, friendship aside, had no need to stand even in the presence of the First of her peers.

Augusta stood. “Lady Auspica, thank you. We all thank you for your years of service,” she said with true sincerity and imagined the day when she herself would retire. “Thank you,” she said again when the applause had subsided. “The Council has a little gift for you in honor of your retirement.” She raised her ringed hand.

A handsome youth appeared, naked but for a massive golden torc. His pale skin showed not the least touch of sun. His hair was as golden as his shining crown. His body had been waxed clean of any body hair. Blonde hair was rare among the dark-complexioned, dark-haired people of Amaranthis. Matching the golden youth to the golden torc had been a difficult undertaking. Despite the male’s obvious size and strength, its weight nearly staggered him.

The torc was exquisitely made. The graceful workmanship was apparent. Lady Auspica found herself more interested in the gold than in youth and chided herself for her old-womanly preferences. Her granddaughter certainly, and her daughter most likely would have more interest in the youth. The Atreis family certainly had gold and wealth enough. Her slave pens were also well-stocked and her feet were never chilled at night.


	3. The Atreis Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Appia Palatina Caeca is named Captain General

“Catula, I simply had no idea,” Fausta Atreis Auspica, thoroughly exasperated, explained to her daughter, Fausta Atreis Catula. “I never thought the old cow would name her young grandniece Captain General. I can remember little Caeca running naked through the gardens.”The ‘old cow’ was Aule Palatina Augusuta, First of Amaranthis. Little Caeca was her twenty-six year old great niece, the little mouse Appia Palatina Casta’s older sister. Suddenly, the older woman felt her long years weigh heavily on her usually strong shoulders. 

Auspica’s words did little to mollify her daughter, Catula. Catula had fully expected to succeed her mother as Captain General of the Gynarchy. Doubt had never entered her mind. “You served long and well as Captain General. It’s my turn now! The First surrounds herself with her family and leaves too few honors for others.”

“You’re still Maestre of Horse, Catula, and your daughter Corva has been named Captain of the Guard.” The golden torc, one part of her retirement gift, sat on the table, ineluctable proof of their family’s high standing. 

“Maestre of Horse to that preening piglet.” Catula was forty years old and fully fourteen years older than Caeca, now her Captain General. Her own daughter, Corva, was already twenty.

Auspica had never before heard Caeca described as a ‘piglet.’ “Many hold this Caeca in high regard, unlike her little sister.”

“I should be Captain General. One might think the Council would tire of the old cow’s presumption. Will the Council allow the Palatina to hold all the high offices?”

Both turned to the sound of a scream.

“Trabella and Corva are branding that new boy,” Catula explained. He was the other part of Auspica’s retirement gift. Everyone knew of the special bond between a boy and the woman who places his first brand. “He needed a trimming too.” All males in the kennel were circumcised to facilitate better hygiene.

“My dear friend Augusta respects us still,” Auspica insisted. “Her gift was fitting and our family continues its influence.”

“Augusta could hardly have named her other grandniece, Casta, Guard Captain. That little brown mouse lacks the courage to defend herself against the peas on her dinner plate,” Catula snapped. “The Palatina are weak. The First is doddering. Her niece, Appia Palatina Potita, stands fully in her shadow. Caeca’s daughter is no more than a toddler and after her there are no more Palatina. We’ve had our women in the First’s Guard for years. We have our reliable contacts in the Foreigners’ quarter. It’s fully our time, Mother!”   
Surrounded by the opulent wealth of the court, a fair number of guardswomen were frustrated with their modest salaries and limited prospects. They felt under-appreciated. At the beginning, they had accepted small gifts from a respected comrade and later a more substantial considerations, perhaps a bit too generous. Eventually they found themselves trapped by the threat of exposure and readily agreed to a regular payment in exchange for an oath. 

“Now our Corva is their Captain and this is our time.”

Auspica was ambitious but she was troubled by her daughter’s ruthless manner. She had thought the First her life-long friend. Theoretically, any of the Council of Ten might be elected First but the First had always been a Palatina. The Atreis had always stood high in the military hierarchy. Auspica searched still for some peaceful path. “What if I ask my old friend Augusta for her grandnephew? He’s pretty enough and he’d be a proud ornament for our household.”

“I would rather be Captain General!” Catula declared.

“If she gave the youth to you or Corva, wouldn’t that assure our future in the Council?” Auspica proposed. She wanted to advance her family’s fortunes but she also wanted peace in her later years.

“If we request the youth, we would reassure the damned Palatina of our good intentions and our loyalty to the Council,” Corva responded, more slyly than her mother or grandmother guessed. A wedding could be also an opportunity to display her family’s wealth and power. The Palatina might be less than wary in the days that followed. The men of the Foreigners’ quarter, merchants, sailors, and fugitives, had erupted in riots from time to time. Plans formed quickly.


	4. Major and Messalina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major learns of his wedding plans

“No. I told her simply and plainly no.” Major insisted. “Nothing I said mattered.” The youth was thoroughly dejected. “It’s my duty to my family, she told me, to our nation.”

“I can’t believe it. Everyone knows you’re mine.” Messalina fumed. “You had no warning?”

“No one told me anything, not even my sisters. Mother insists it’s for the peace of the Council. You should have said something to mother sooner.”

“Would have, could have, should have,” Messalina mumbled, shaking her head sadly. “At least you’re not to marry old Catula. Her daughter Corva’s certainly pretty enough and you’re pretty enough too. Well, we have here and now at least.” Messalina pressed herself against him then kissed him fully on the mouth. Her soft breasts pressed against his strong chest.

Major wrapped her in his strong arms and simply held her close though he knew that some thought such bordered on ill manners. Male physical strength was such that such an embrace was viewed menacing. Manfully, he returned his wrists to his sides. Some said that civilization itself was the female response to male strength and alacrity for violence. Messalina wrapped him in her arms. With time, she had come to trust him completely and he loved her all the more for her trust.

Suddenly, she pulled back and looked at her lover directly. “There’s one way,” Messalina mused. “I might just abduct you. Once you carried my mark, the Atreis would never accept you as a consort.”

Major shook his head sadly. “It would never work. Mother would imprison you and simply give me to the Atreis to assuage their anger. 

When they had finished, she sat naked astride his hips. “Perhaps your Lady Corva and I may become friends,” she mused after she had caught her breath. “She’s said to be a pleasant sort. She’s certainly beautiful and said to be open handed. I can visit her and perhaps, she might send you to me to attend to my comfort.”

“Or some other boy from her well stocked kennel!”


	5. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaia Atreis Corva weds Appius Palatinus Major

The damp cold rose inexorably from the chilly stone floor. Major stood shivering, bare foot and uncomfortably naked under his ornate wedding robe. His skin still burned from his thorough waxing. He hoped the redness had faded. Casta, his sister held his large hand in her much smaller hand.

Major looked quickly at his new bride. Gaia Atreis Corva, his new wife-to-be was truly and undeniably beautiful. Her hair was a gleaming gold and her eyes, a sparkling deep blue. Already, she served as Captain of his Great Aunt’s guard. All thought she would be Captain General or at least Maestre of Horse herself someday. 

However, he sensed a certain coolness in his new-to-be wife’s blue eyes. He understood that a certain reserve was held becoming in a woman of rank. To devote oneself too deeply to one’s consort, he knew, was held a distraction from the larger world and accounted a vulnerability. To reveal excessive devotion in public was held even worse.

Corva’s comrada were numerous and resplendent in their arms and armor. Their names were Aule Sevilia Caeponis, Gnaea Tarpeia Sulla, Fausta Aemilia Imaera, Metia Pompeia Aquila, Marcia Pompeia Laena, and Caele Macaena Volusa. Corva and her seconds wore their martial gear, polished cuirasses, boots, and kilts of overlapping plates of boiled leather. Each carried a sword at her belt. He saw his bride’s two red-haired country cousins, Rufa and Rutilla, uncomfortable in their formal gowns, gawking at all of the elaborately complex pomp and circumstance of the capital. 

Major remembered fondly how a real sword felt in his hand. He had loved to play at swords with his sisters and cousins. “You fight like a girl,” Caeca had praised him with no more than a hint of a tease. 

The slaves told of lands where men actually wielded weapons. Several claimed to have been warriors themselves. One fellow, called Demetrius claimed to have had his thumbs cut off to keep him from ever wielding his axe again. The wretch now slept in the stables and had no need of thumbs to carry his heavy packs through the city’s crowded narrow lanes. 

When Major was fifteen, his mother saw him going at it with his sisters, wooden sword in hand, and screamed her outrage. She ordered him beaten like a slave. Caeca, his oldest sister, argued for him fiercely and unsuccessful, stormed angrily away. Casta, his twin, followed him bravely into the slave kennels where Ghül and Aydan followed their orders. They stripped him naked and secured him to the whipping post. He had the body of a man. Ghül delivered only half of the strokes demanded, instructing him to cry out for the others as her whip snapped harmlessly in the air. Still, the pain looked to be terrible. 

“No more swords of steel, boy!” Ghül cautioned him. 

“You likely pierce enough hearts with that little dagger dangling between your legs,” Aydan added. He had little idea of her meaning of that moment. He was sobbing when Ghül left. Aydan dressed his wounds carefully. She then took his sex in her hand and worked him to a messy orgasm. Then Major better understood Aydan’s words.

Wide-eyed, Casta saw it all. In a month, she had worked her way through the kitchen boy, the stable boy, the identical twins who warded the door of her mother’s palace, the gardener’s helper, and even Major’ new best boy, Atthis. His mother had bought Atthis as a playmate to keep him company safely away from the mischievous girls.

Major took great pleasure in Atthis’ company. As his body changed, Atthis helped him with the onerous grooming needed to maintain him properly free of body hair. They had become great friends despite the vast difference in their station. Major broke a golden owl in half. He and Attthis, each wore half on a string around his neck.

Two years later Aydan had been Major’s first lover. In time, he had pierced one heart in truth, his Lady Messalina’s, and found that his heart had been pierced equally in return. 

Major glanced briefly at his sisters and cousins. Most were laughing and chatting merrily. Among his relatives, only Casta looked pensive. His mother, Appia Palatina Potita stood quietly. Her features betrayed the traditional ambiguity of the mother of the groom. His sister Caeca attended in her military garb with her best friend Metia Naucratia Bellica. His grandmother, Aule Palatina Augusta, the First of Amaranthis, chatted merrily with her former Captain General, the grandmother of his Atreis bride. 

His grandmother had long urged his mother to foster him out to lessen her distress and that of his sisters for an eventual day like today. Only the Atreis contested for power with the Palatina. A renewed alliance of these two powerful families was ample reason for this marriage. 

Behind them, Major saw all the other wedding guests. The Chamberlain, Vibia Apollonia Ulpis, stood dressed in her finest. 

He sought Messalina, his lover, in the gathering. She had taken great pleasure from his well-groomed body and had given him much pleasure in return. However, his family, the Palatina needed the support of the Atreis much more than their reliable allies, the Valeria. Despite their fondest wishes, his family had not supported such a marriage. Major knew from her sad eyes that she shared his regret but all knew the son of a prominent family could expect no freedom in these important decisions and the daughter of a minor house had little more.

His duty was clear. He wore the ornate wedding tunic his mother had had made for him at great expense. He was barefoot and wore nothing underneath as was the custom. 

Abruptly, Casta released him and his mother Appia Palatina Potita took his hand in her strong grasp. She half led, half dragged him to his new wife and gave his hand to Corva.

Corva grinned merrily and held out her hands. Major placed both his larger hands into hers and looked into her hard, bright eyes. She held his gaze until he lowered his eyes. 

The priestess said the words. His name had been Appius Palatinus Major. His new name was Gaius Atreis Corvus. He was no longer a Palatina. 

He pledged himself to love, honor, and obey. As required by custom, he knelt and kissed her gleaming boot. The audience cheered and Corva urged him to his feet. Now she was his, perhaps, but he was certainly hers. 

Major stood. Custom required Corva to undo the single button securing his wedding tunic. For a moment, he would stand as naked as a slave, displayed before the gathering but then his Lady would replace his family’s tunic with one of her own, hopefully one yet more magnificent.

Aquila, Corva’s second, handed Corva the honor knife and she cut the single button securing his tunic. As designed, the tunic slid from Major’s broad shoulders and pooled at his feet. He stood naked, proving his body bore neither the mark nor circumcision of a slave. He was a wholly worthy consort. Of his former possessions, he wore only the half golden owl on a string around his neck. Corva kissed him strongly on the lips. Her hand brushed his thighs and briefly touched his heavy sex. Major found concentration suddenly difficult. Corva looked quickly to Aquila. 

Major tried to see his wedding tunic. The elaborated wedding tunic would be hard to conceal. Uncomfortable with public nudity, he expected that Aquila, Corva’s second, would quickly provide his splendid new tunic. Only slaves were naked in public. The robe should have been utterly magnificent. The Atreis were an old and wealthy family. He looked this way and that and saw nothing. Aquila moved quickly behind him. She held no tunic but rather heavy diamond earrings. 

“Consort, you will kneel,” his new wife commanded. He knelt. Perhaps he was too tall for them to drape his new tunic gracefully. “Look at me and do not move.” 

As naked as a slave, Major knelt. Major looked up at his new wife. He had been thoroughly conditioned to obedience. Her cool blue eyes were bright with laughter but revealed no softness. He felt a brief stinging in his left ear and then his right. He felt warm blood trickling down his neck and shoulders. Aquila had reached down, pierced his ears, and secured the heavy earrings. The earrings gleamed with gold and glittered with diamond. None might fault the Atreis’ wealth or generosity. The jeweled baubles likely cost more than any ornate tunic.

Those assembled applauded and cheered once more, the Atreis supporters more enthusiastically than the Palatina supporters. A tunic would have been more conventional – something exquisite with jewels and golden thread. Corva’s gift was unusual but the humiliation of uppity highborn males with impossibly lofty expectations was the stuff of universal comedy. Corva helped him to his feet.

“He looks lovely in his new earrings,” Rutilla, Corva’s red haired cousin, called.

“He looks lovely in his all-together.” Laena added.

“Look at the size of those stones!” Sulla exclaimed. She was not looking at his earrings.

“Those earrings must have cost a fortune!” Imaea exclaimed. The great wealth of the Atreis was fully represented.

Caeponis presented Corva with a goblet of wine. Corva drank deeply. Major reached to take the glass into his own hands but Corva shook her head, no. She took a second mouthful and pressed her lips to Majors’. The wine flowed from her mouth into his and dribbled from his mouth over his face and bare chest. He sputtered and coughed but accepted his new role and public humiliation. No longer was he a Palatina. He swallowed the wine as best he could. Corva licked the wine from his bare neck and chest.

Corva took her consort’s hand and led him to the reception, naked as a slave. Pleading fatigue and sudden weakness, Aule Palatina Augusta, First of Amaranthis, quickly left the indecorous proceedings. The insult was puzzling but one properly said very little about the management of another’s household. A woman who cannot manage her own household is fit for little else.


	6. Wedding Night

Corvus nee Major was actually relieved when Corva led him from the reception. The room was unfurnished except for a large bed. He had expected to be alone with his Lady. Instead, he found himself with Corva and her seconds. In a heartbeat, Corva and Aquila disappeared. Major was alone and naked with Caeponis, Sulla, Imaea, and Volusa. They joked and touched him boldly. They and found merriment in his body’s indisputable response, redoubled their teasing. They urged more wine on him and indulged themselves. Despairing, Major drank.

After a time, Aquila reappeared and led them to a second chamber. The party, hooting and hollering, followed unsteadily, their hands all over Major’s body.

Major looked up and saw his Lady Corva. He loved Messalina but Corva was undeniably beautiful. Naked, she straddled a supine male. She turned to Major, now Corvus, looked up, and smiled. The graceful strength of her toned body accented her ineluctably feminine allure. Her neck and shoulder were graceful. Her breasts were high and proud.

Corva disengaged herself from the male and came down from the couch. His sex lay wetly shriveled. The male rolled to his belly and raised himself on his elbows to better watch the proceedings. His mouth and eyes grinned merrily. 

Corva stood before her consort. Her narrow waist opened into rounded hips and trim thighs. The inner sides of her thighs gleamed with the wetness of the male’s copious spendings. “Consort, come to me,” she commanded softly. Her nudity detracted nothing from her confidence and authority.

Her consort stood before her. Corva reached up and took his face between her hands. Despite their shared nudity and their disparity in size, no one might wonder who commanded and who obeyed. Gently, she stroked his lips and then drew him toward her. 

He thought that they might kiss but he was mistaken. She pulled down on his shoulders and brought him to his knees. She thrust her groin into his face. 

She gleamed with a faint sheen of perspiration. He saw the beads of leavings on her thighs and in the dense thatch of blond hair that crowned her sex and inhaled the distinctive odor. He thought of his Messalina and did as was required. 

“He seems to have quite an appetite,” Corva told her friends. “I know exactly where we might find him more of this.”

“I wonder where he learned his skills?” asked Imaea wickedly.

“Obviously, he’s practices diligently with his sisters,” quipped Sulla.

“Or his great aunt,” added Volusa.

“Enough!” Corva called and stepped away. “Aquila, attend to me.” Major was left alone on his knees.

Corva turned her back to him and Aquila helped her don some sort of belt. She turned to him. Corvus saw something decidedly unfeminine projecting from between her very feminine thighs. He shook his head in disbelief. 

Before he could overcome his surprise and comprehend the jarring image, Caeponis grabbed his left arm and Volusa his right. Together, they propelled him backwards and he collapsed supine on the divan. 

This was a small bed, three feet wide and four feet wide, was designed for play and not for sleep. Shackles were positioned at the corners too large to hold female wrists but sized correctly for a male. The platform was high. Lying supine, Corvus’ legs hung over its edge and his feet just touched the floor. 

Corva and her seconds had no need of shackles tonight. Aquila leaned her knee against his throat. Then Imaea lifted his right leg and Sulla his left, bending him double at the waist and raising his bottom into the air. Feeling horribly exposed and vulnerable, Corvus struggled but could not win free of their strong hold.

“Oil?” Aquila asked.

“Will go better, my dear consort, if you don’t resist.” The set of Corva’s jaw showed her determination. Her blue eyes sparkled coldly.

Corva nodded and Aquila dribbled warm oil between Corvus’ brawny buttocks. Corva looked at her consort. She said Major’s new name aloud, “You are now my Gaius Atreis Corvus.” He was neither Palatina nor Major any longer.

A strong hand manipulated his sex and Corvus awoke in the dim predawn light. He found himself in a bed, his body entangled with a female form. Whether from pain or drink or abject humiliation, he had passed out. He was uncertain exactly when he had lost consciousness but his torn ass still burned from his Lady’s assault. A rank taste fouled his mouth. 

His bedmate sighed and straddled him when his ever-eager body responded to her touch. Deftly, she mounted him. He tried to see her in the darkness, but her heat and wetness engulfed him. She moved against him. He tried to lift his arms to embrace her but found his wrists had been shackled. Involuntarily, his body rose to meet her. Her coarse bush abraded his skin, recently waxed hairless. The pleasure made it hard to concentrate and he just closed his eyes. 

He awoke again in full morning. Volusa lay naked sprawled on top of him. He stirred and she awoke. She freed him from his shackles.

Smiling she looked down upon him. “Lady Corva and her friends went out last night,” she answered without being asked. “She asked me to keep an eye on you. Thanks for the ride.” She winked. “I hope your Lady allows me have you again.” She lowered her head to kiss him, but she looked at his lips and remembering what had transpired the night before, thought better of it. She kissed him on the forehead. “Your Lady Corva is known for her generosity to her friends as well her ruthlessness toward her enemies.”

She shimmied up his body and sat on his chest. The smooth skin of her bare bottom rubbed against the sensitive skin of his denuded chest. She reached out and softly touched his left diamond earring, now caked with clotted blood. Her unexpected gentleness moved him.

Her well-used puffy sex confronted him, streaked with his own leavings. He thought he might be told to serve her pleasure in this way. However, she slide forward and tilted her bottom to present him with her most intimate opening.

Once, he had been a Palatina and nephew of the First of the Council of Ten. Now he belonged to the Atreis, their bitter rivals, the victim of some sort of political maneuver. Once he had shared love with Messalina, his beloved. Now he served Volusa, second to Caeponis, a good friend of his Lady Corva. 

“Come on, boy, make me happy,” she teased.

Tentatively, he touched her with his tongue. Her skin was smooth except for a scare fine hair. He tasted only the faint residue of her perfumed soap and the salt of her perspiration. He brushed her rim of her tight muscular ring and she shuddered with pleasure. He gripped the half owl on the string and found some meagre measure of comfort.


	7. The  Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvus nee Major begins his new life

VI

Still naked except for his heavy earrings, Corva led her new consort from his chamber to better see his new home in daylight. Major found himself unsteady. Strong drink and the night’s events still blurred Major, now Corvus’, vision despite the brilliant morning light. 

His bottom still burned from her assault the previous night. He had seen his blood on the bedclothes but he took a certain comfort from Corva’s strong, possessive grasp of his hand. She led him through the ornate foray and the elaborate dining chamber into the more private parts of the house.

Rutilla and Rufa, her younger sister, joined them, apparently none for worse for wear. Rufa’s hair was unalloyed red while Rutilla’s hair had golden highlights. 

Atthis watched them leave, deeply concerned for his young master. 

Corva showed him the extensive servants’ quarters and then led him in the well-stocked and well-maintained slave kennel. The sumptuous palace of the Atreis fully rivaled that of the Palatina. “This is your new master,” his Lady introduced him to the attendants with a wry smile, “a proud son of the Palatinas.” Major, now Corvus, stood, still naked except for his earrings, his body soiled with sweat and the evidence of the night’s activities. Clotted blood clumped at his ear piercings and stuck to his neck. Oil clung to the crack of his buttocks and the insides of his thighs. 

Ordooz looked the male over. She had much experience assessing stock in the slave market. “Certainly no daughter,” she quipped.

Major now Corvus saw the well-worn whipping post and shuddered. He was as naked a slave but a slave had his collar to know that he was valued, at least.

“Lash him soundly,” the Lady Corva instructed with no hint of anger. Major now Corvus looked at her in disbelief.

Corva’s mother had taught her that a male should be beaten regularly - like a rug. If you didn’t know his specific failings, he always did. “But don’t mark him too severely.” She did not find scars attractive on a male. “Will go better, my dear consort, if you don’t resist.” Corva’s jaw showed her determination. Her blue eyes sparkled coldly, once again.

Corva left the kennel as Ordooz and Pinar secured Major now Corvus to the post as instructed.

Rufa and Rutilla stayed behind. “Can we help?” Rutilla asked eagerly. One day, she and her sister would head households of their own. To rule one’s household, one had to learn to wield the lash effectively.

Ordooz smiled and shook her head doubtfully, secure in her skill and her Lady’s confidence. “I think your cousin would rather you practiced on someone beside a Palatina.

“I must have my full turn,” insisted Rufa. “My turn in full.” They would have to find a different victim for their practice.

Corva paused at his first scream but comforted herself with the knowledge that all was for his own ultimate good. The sooner her consort overcame his pride and illusions, the happier he would be. Today, she had much else to attend to. She would find a special pleasure in comforting him later.


	8. Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot unfolds

Casta straddled Iacchus’s thighs, facing his feet. His thick sex filled her to a delicious fullness. Unpleasant memories of the wedding disappeared. Battus lowered his head between her thighs and tormented her precious pearl with his wickedly skilled tongue. Impatiently, Casta pressed him more firmly against herself. She sighed aloud, dizzy with pleasure. Tonight was certainly more fun than a meeting in the Privy Chamber with Great Aunt Augusta, her rarely satisfied mother Potita and her all too perfect and all too beautiful sister Caeca. Powerful sensations rushed from her throbbing sex. Focused thought became elusive. She was literally drunk with pleasure.

Mingo, Vomerus, and Sopio snuck into the quiet palace. They surprised a serving girl in the hall and slew her silently with dispatch. Apparently, Appia Palatina Potita had taken her bodyguard to the palace. Their target was only Casta and no one believed that the inoffensive little mouse needed protection.

Mingo looked around. He was grateful to be stalking Casta rather than her more war-like sister, Caeca. He tried to remember the plans he had been shown. He looked. He listened. “This way, I think?” He pointed.

“He thinks!” said Vomerus.

“He thinks!” Echoed Sopio, making light in a desperate time and place. “Always knew you had it in you, boy.

Mingo scowled. “Up yours.” 

Erce chanced to confront the intruders and memories returned of her previous life in the scant heartbeats before they took her life.

Casta heard nothing. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her naked body. She took a deep breath and placed her index and middle fingers where Iacchus fat cock entered her body. She moved her fingers and small circles. “Boy! Give it up. Give it to me!”

Iaccus groaned and came profusely. His muscles contracted sharply. His back arched and he lifted Casta from the floor. She felt the torrent gush past her fingers and felt the hot gooey fluid fill her and run messily down her thighs and over Battus’ face.

Sopio heard the noise. “This way!” He ran. Vomerus and Mingo ran after him.

“I think the cunt killed somebody.” Vomerus whispered hoarsely as he ran. “Likely bit his dick off.”

Casta heard something and looked up. She saw the three men who had invaded her home. They bore short swords and evil expressions. She pushed Battus away firmly. 

Thinking it no more than play, Battus resisted and kept his mouth pressed to her body. She pushed him again and now he looked up and saw the intruders. At once, he knew their bloody intent. Naked and unarmed, Battus launched himself at them. In fraction of a second, Iacchus followed with no hesitation.

The three fighters made short work of the unarmed slaves. Their swords ripped through bare unprotected skin. Iacchus and Battus lay bleeding on the floor. 

“Not so pretty now, pretty boys. Hey?” taunted Sopio, very pleased with his wit, before he cut Battus throat. 

Mingo hefted Iacchus’ male paraphernalia, discomforted to touch another male so intimately. “I’m at least as well equipped as he. Why does he get to wield his sweet weapon while I have to toil with a heavy steel sword?” With a sawing motion of his sharp blade, he mutilated the male roughly. “Now, here’s a trophy for our Lady.” He hefted the bloody flesh.

“Casta,” said Vomerus. “Remember, you assholes. We’re here to kill Casta. Where’s the cunt? Which way did she go?” Sopio, Mingo, and Vomerus searched and found no sign of their target.

They were still searching in the hour before dawn when Lady Corva entered the Palatina’s palace with a score of warriors. Sopio, Vomerus, and Mingo hesitated to report their failure to Lady Corva. Boldness replaced their chagrin at failure to bring down their quarry

“She squealed when I stuck her,” Sopio reported. 

“The piglet slipped away through a pool of her own blood while we took care of the others,” Vomerus seconded Sopio.

“Likely crawled off somewhere to die,” Mingo added, “like a wounded animal.”

Surprise and then terror replaced their wonder at their brazen boldness in the instant before Corva and her companions of the First’s Guard cut them down.

Corva looked down at the bodies of Iacchus and Battus. “Too pretty for this bloody end,” she mumbled to herself. These two had been Casta’s favorites and the intruders had slain her maid servant in the hall. “Has anyone yet found the little brown mouse?” Any doubts were no more than fleeting. 

Tonight had been bathed in blood. The blood pooled on the polished stone floor here was only the smallest part of it. A band of males had crept from the foreigners’ quarter and sacked the First’s Palace. Most of the Guard had been away on a training exercise. The First had been killed together with her niece Potita. Caeca had been found alive, her naked body slick with others’ blood, beneath a dozen slain intruders. She would likely die by morning despite the tender care of the Atreis’s own physician. 

Well, mice are good at hiding and Corva was certain too that she would find the little brown mouse by morning. Now she must neutralize their likely supporters. "Neutralize" was such a bloodless term, she smiled in anticipation. Something about Major and Opita Valeria Messalina .....


	9. The Depths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torture chamber

Maximus had lived through this too many times –both awake and asleep in his nightmarish dreams. His body bore the permanent marks of it. He now knew better than resist when Bahar restrained his wrists behind his back and then secured his gag. Grinning wryly, Ghül, the kennel mistress, pulled the leather hood over his eyes and all was dark. One on each side they guided him stumbling from his cell. 

Immediately, he smelled the brazier where the iron rods were heated and trembled. His knees buckled but his attendants would not allow him to fall. Ghül chuckled at the large strong male’s sudden attack of weakness

“So here you are,” the Lady Corva greeted him. Once she had been his Lady-Wife. “Let’s get to it!”

A cloth redolent with female essence was thrust under gag. Maximus felt an oil-slick hand manipulate his sex. His traitorous body surrendered to its skillful ministrations. He bellowed his rage to the amusement of all. Bahar and Ghül pulled him forward and he resisted at first. Then he felt the first faintest heat of the iron rod on his buttocks. The skin between his buttocks bore the scars of his previous encounters with the iron. Ghül boasted that she could convince a male to do just about anything, once she poked a red hot rod up his ass – a woman too, for that matter. Maximus trudged slowly forward. That he kept his erection was a wonder.

Then he heard a woman moaning before him. His body collided with the smooth skin of her rounded buttocks. He smelled her fear and something else perhaps. His own terror blurred senses. His attendants positioned him carefully. Her head banged on the table in desperation. Suddenly, a touch of the heated rod drove him forward and he penetrated her roughly. Her scream was piercing.

He fell forward onto her belly, their bodies still joined. He tasted her sweat-slick skin and then he knew. Ghül peeled off his hood and Maximus saw Messalina, her features distorted by her pain and the gag stuffed in her mouth. She was weeping now and so was he.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded unintelligibly behind his gag.

“I know,” she answered wordlessly with her eyes.


	10. Coup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Atreis bid for power

The chamberlain, Vibia Apollonia Ulpis, banged her staff against the marble floor and called for quiet.

The Council of Ten with their secretaries occupied the great table at the center of the Council Chamber. The representatives of the other families of the Great Council occupied chairs around the periphery of the high ceiling room. Conversation buzzed. 

Fausta Atreis Catula, looked anxiously at the entrance, searching for her daughter Corva.

The chamberlain called the Council to order. She banged her staff against the marble floor, once and again. All looked for the First of the Council, Aule Palatina Augusta. Voices buzzed. Each was a whisper but chaos in aggregate. Lady Ulpis looked to Lady Catula to speak.

Lady Catula, the Maestre of Horse, rose and walked to the rostrum in her military gear. Arms and armor were rarely seen in the Council Chamber. The air seemed fresher without the Palatina, she thought or imagined. 

“We are under attack from the foreigners’ quarter. Bands of armed men rampaged through the city. They attacked the Palace and all the Palatina are slain. The First is slain. Ceaca died this morning.”

The room erupted in chaos.

The chamberlain called for order.

“You are safe! My daughter Corva and her Guard put them down but the Palatina are no more. We are convened to choose a new First.”

 

“Not all the Palatina, perhaps.” Casta stood, her features half-concealed by a hood. “Where is your daughter, Corva?” Messalina stood beside her.

A buzz of voices sounded. The attendees looked for the absent Atreis.

“Corva will be here shortly. Who are you?”

“Just a little mouse.” Casta stood as tall and proud as she was able. She held back her tears. Messalina stood by her side. My friend, Lady Messalina, recently a victim of your famous hospitality, has escaped. Your house is in an uproar, I am told.”

“Lady Corva is deceased.” Messalinia declared. “She was strangled by one of her kennel boys.”

“How may the Atreis rule us when they are unable to manage their own household?” asked Casta.


	11. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The straw that broke the Commander's neck

Corvus once Major slept alone in a small chamber in the kennels of the Atreis Palace. He was happy enough to find himself largely forgotten and finally get some rest.

Corva returned at dawn. Aroused by the night of bloodshed, she had no need or patience for any foreplay. She stripped him of his thin blanket and straddled the naked boy’s hips. She took his silky sex in her hand. He had yet to be circumcised. Yet one more thing to attend to.

Corvus once Major exhausted, did not wake but responded promptly to her ministrations. Corva smiled at her easy success. Would that she be as successful in her other endeavors! She was wet and ready. She guided him into her as she dropped heavily across his thighs and slapped him sharply.

Corvus once Major awoke with a start. The marks of his beatings burned still. The pteruges of Corva’s skirt were cold against his warm skin. His freshly applied brand was still tender. The hard lip of her bronze cuirass pressed against his belly and smeared cold, greasy blood on his bare skin. Most of all, he felt the wetness and the heat of her. The sensations were overpowering. The tight curls of her bush abraded the sensitive skin of his waxed loins. His back arched without volition, lifting her from the floor. Her weight was real and no fantasy. He opened his eyes only then and saw his Lady Wife Corva in the dim predawn light.

Corva kept her seat with ease and pressed against him with increasing urgency. She took her first orgasm and slid away. 

Corvus once Major searched for her in the dim light. 

She quickly reappeared, fumbling with that damned harness and its obscene appendage. She slapped his side. “Turn over,” she urged. “Turn over, now.” 

Resigned, Corvus once Major complied. He felt her hand on his ass and then the cold oil in the crack between his buttocks. She pushed herself between his thighs and gripped his ball sac in her sword tested hand. He knew better than resist. 

She poked clumsily before striking her target at exactly the proper angle. 

Corvus once Major felt his body resist her invasion strongly and then felt his abject surrender.

Corva lay across his back. Her armor was cold against his naked, torn back. She took his ear in her teeth, just breaking the skin. “You’re mine, you know,” she whispered between her clenched jaws.

Corvus once Major could not argue.

“All mine! Tonight is a special night for the Atreis, your new family. We now lead the Council of Ten. The Palatinas are dead. Your mother is dead. Your sisters are dead! We will lead the Council.”

“Casta? Caeca? Mother?” Corvus once Major gasped, unable to breath.

“The little brown mouse? Her greasy blood dirties my boots.” Corva squeezed his scrotum firmly and Corvus once Major gasped in pain. She thrust strongly. “and I brought you something.” She handed Corvus a half golden owl on a string, partner to the one he wore. “Your boy has no need of this anymore. In truth, he has no need of anything anymore.” Her cousins had practiced their whipping skills on him quite rigorously. Rufa went first and Rutilla had insisted on her full equal time with his torn, bleeding body. 

Corvus once Major cried unabashed tears, though he felt torment far beyond tears. 

Men are such emotional creatures, Corva thought in the single heartbeat before he turned and wrapped his strong hands around her neck. “Will go better, my dear wife, if you don’t resist.” Fiercely, he strangled the life from his lady wife with no remorse.


	12. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath

Casta had never expected with serve as First of the Gynarchy but the world seemed to have high expectations of the Palatinas. She would need the help of Vibia Apollonia Ulpis, Chamberlain and Gaia Claudia Marcella, Magistrate of the City of Amaranthis. Opita Valeria Messalina would serve as her Count of the Palace but who would lead the army? Who among the officers might she trust?

“Where is Major?” Messalina asked.

Casta and Messalina came to the Atreis' kennels dressed in a simple tunics. They sought Casta’s brother. 

Major sat confined in his cell in the Atreis palace kennels. . The Ateis had murdered his family and hoped to supplant them in the Council. Somehow, Casta had survived but he feared for Messalina. He had killed Corva, his lady wife and the plot failed. He had heard only rumors of the last day. Who was left to rule the Gynarchy? He tried to imagine Casta, the little brown mouse, as First of the Gynarchy.

“Messalina, you’re alive!” Major jumped to his feet and exclaimed when Casta and Messalina entered his kennel. “My love!”

“Major, you strangled your lady wife.” Casta shook her head sadly.

Major had been naked since hi wedding. Suddenly, he felt very naked. He grasped the two halves of the broken golden eagle in his fist. Corva killed Auntie, Caeca, Mother, and Atthis. She boasted of it, he thought to explain but Messalina spoke for him.

“The bitch certainly need killing.” Messalina offered and took Major in her arms.

Casta steeled herself against the rush of emotion. “Major, I am your sister but I am now also First of the Gynarchy.” She looked at Messalina. “You raised your hand against your Lady Wife,” She said sadly and quickly left the two alone.

Major sensed something new about his little sister, an intensity about her, an enormous strength of will, not at all limited by her small size. She must be grateful for my help, though, he thought and remembered happier times. HE wished he was cleaner.

Messalina did not seem to mind. She embraced him warmly and his worries ceased. Her lips touched his and he felt as if they had never been apart. He returned her kiss with stirring passion. 

Messalina ran her hand up the inside of his thigh. His skin was sticky with dried perspiration. He winced when she touched his fresh brand. A slave was branded on his anterior left thigh, so that his mistress might better enjoy the mark of her ownership. She smiled to see that nothing had diminished his body’s prompt response to her touch and remembered happier times. The Atreis had yet to circumcise him.

He sank to his knees before her and lifted the hem of her tunic. He hadn't forgotten what gave her pleasure. 

Tonight, Messalina felt a certain urgency. She knelt with him. Somehow, her small clothes had disappeared. She straddled him and took him quickly to her core – wet and hot. She tried to avoid re-injuring his painful, fresh brand. She took his right hand in her left and raised it high above his head. His left hand circled his waist. She ground against him and, his eyes closed, he answered her enthusiastically.

She leaned forward and kissed him fully on the mouth. His lips parted at her gentle assault. She took eagerly what he offered and he sighed. Though the fabric of her tunic, her soft breasts pressed against his strong chest. His breathing quickened. His body warmed as his skin flushed. Messalina savored her power. His sighs became a groan. His back arched and he lifted her from the floor. She kept her seat and felt him empty into her. 

He opened his eyes. “I love you,” he said simply.

“I love you more,” she teased. She learned forward and kissed his eyes closed. He did not feel that warm tears that fell on his face. 

Such a waste, she mourned but better her hand than a stranger’s. She slipped the knife from her boot.

“Fuck him if you must but he must be dead by dawn,” Casta had said with tears in her eyes.

“But you’re the First and his act saved us.” Messalina had protested but she knew the truth of her friend’s words. People will understand, she argued. The sweet boy is too pretty to die but he raised his hand against his lady wife – murderer and traitor though she was.

“I must show the Council our strength,” Casta said with sorrow. At least, she could save him from interrogation under torture and crucifixion.

Messalina re-arranged her clothes and met Casta in the corridor outside his cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the gynarchy of Amaranthis, what justifies a man's violence against his wife?


End file.
